


to be loved

by LoversAntiquities



Series: Codas [39]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Episode: s15e09 The Trap, First Kiss, M/M, Season/Series 15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22293724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoversAntiquities/pseuds/LoversAntiquities
Summary: “Did you mean it?” Castiel asks, much, much later. “When you prayed, did you mean what you said?”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Codas [39]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/247642
Comments: 20
Kudos: 389





	to be loved

“Did you mean it?” Castiel asks, much, much later, legs hanging over the bunker’s roof, hands white knuckling the edge. Dean sits beside him, ankles crossed, elbows on his knees. Above, the moon shines, partially obscured by the clouds; a few beams dance across Dean’s face, highlighting his eyes, red-rimmed and wet, even hours later. “When you prayed, did you mean what you said?”

For a long while, Dean sits there, looking down at his lap. He chews his bottom lip; occasionally, his breath hiccups, like he can’t inhale properly, like the weight of the world is too much to bear. It has been for a long while, and Castiel can only shield him from so much. “Yeah,” Dean croaks and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “Yeah, of course. Not gonna lie about it, can’t… I can’t stand the lies anymore. All it’s done is get us hurt. Already hurts enough as it is.”

Castiel nods, looks up to the moon and the distant stars. The last of summer’s heat still hangs in the air, permeating everything it touches, even in the still of night. He rubs the back of his neck; sweat gathers under his collar. “It’s exhausting,” he says, to Dean’s nod. “All of this is… exhausting. And now, we have to try to circumvent Chuck’s—”

“Can we just—not talk about it?” Dean asks—pleads, practically. Looking at him, Castiel notes the furrow in his brow, eyes pinched shut. His jaw flexes, throat working around a noise. “Just one night, Cas. One night, can we just… Literally anything else, I don’t care. There’s a cat over there, what’s it thinking?”

Looking out, Castiel spots the resident cat wandering the bushes a few stories below, her belly sagging. “She’s looking for a place to give birth,” he says, and wonders briefly if he should help.

But Dean laughs, despairing as it is, and palms his eyes. “Sure she'll be fine. Unless you invite her in, and then we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Sam’s already named her Winifred,” Castiel hums. Stops, when he sees Dean stand on weak legs. Neither of them have slept in over a day, and the fact that Dean is able to stand right now is a miracle in itself. “Are you—”

“I’m fine,” Dean says, a lie if Castiel has ever heard one.

He offers a hand, anyway, and Castiel takes it, swinging his legs back onto solid ground and standing, once again enveloped in Dean’s presence. Strong arms wrap around Castiel’s waist, holding him close; Dean tucks his face into Castiel’s neck, his coat still smelling of Purgatory’s blood and rot, in desperate need of a dry cleaner. Another day. Maybe tomorrow, perhaps the next, but for now, he’ll take whatever time he has with Dean, and he’ll never let go.

Dean melts against Castiel when he returns the embrace, arms around Dean’s neck, his cold ear pressed to the side of Dean’s head. In the moonlight, they sway, and Castiel draws what’s left of his wings around Dean, the transparent shape of them holding him, easing the sobs Dean barely manages to hold back. Why he tries now, Castiel doesn’t know; Sam is asleep downstairs, and barring unexpected visitors or God himself, no one will bother them, especially on the roof. “You’re allowed to feel,” Castiel says, petting through Dean’s hair. Dean sighs, burrows closer. “You’re allowed to want things, Dean. You don’t have to be ashamed.”

“I know,” Dean says, muffled in Castiel’s coat. “Just feel… too much. Sam says I need to process my emotions, you believe that?”

Castiel chuckles, noses into the curve of Dean’s throat. “It would help, but there’s some things he probably doesn’t need to know.”

Dean sighs, as close to agreement as he can manage, given the time of night. In a few minutes, Castiel will lead him back downstairs, and hopefully, Dean will sleep until the sun rises, and maybe a few hours more. For the moment, he holds Dean, takes on some of his weight while they rock in each other’s orbits, bodies becoming one for a fleeting second. Once, Castiel kisses his temple, and Dean shudders, eyes closing, lips falling open. The next kiss, Dean returns, a hand to Castiel’s cheek, barely a press of mouths before it’s gone.

The first of many, Castiel hopes. And he’ll be damned if he can’t feel Dean’s lips against his own once again.

Foreheads touching, Castiel watches Dean with half-lidded eyes, watches his eyelids flutter and his cheeks redden, hidden as they are in the shadow between their bodies. He sniffles, once, then runs a hand up Castiel’s back, gripping his shoulder strap tight. “ _Someone to care_ ,” Dean croons, foreign in the night but melodic to Castiel’s ears. “ _Someone to share lonely hours and moments of despair_.”

And without missing a beat, Castiel hums right along, an accompaniment to Dean’s song.

“ _Someone to kiss, someone to miss_ ,” Dean continues, nudging his way to Castiel’s lips again, where Castiel can feel every syllable spoken, every letter uttered. “ _When you’re away to hear from each day_.”

“ _To be loved_ ,” Castiel rumbles.

And Dean echoes, “ _To be loved. Oh, what a feeling, to be loved_.”

Love, Castiel thinks, is a strange emotion, easily thrown around in words but difficult to express when actually felt. Standing here with Dean in his arms, he can’t help but be overcome by it, the rapturous joy of having Dean with him again, his kiss lingering on Castiel’s lips. Warm, soft, everything he ever dreamt of, and somehow, so much more.

So very much more.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever just write something and you're like, oomf, wonder what that feels like ;__;. Anywho, how we doin' gals and dudes!
> 
> Title is from the Jackie Wilson song.
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://tragidean.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/loversantiquities).


End file.
